


The Girl Who Lied

by PixiePunk1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Platonic Soulmates, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28302861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixiePunk1/pseuds/PixiePunk1
Summary: Isobel was your classic Ravenclaw - studious, intelligent, and forward-thinking. She was always a few steps ahead of everyone else- everyone but the Weasley twins. After being paired up with Fred in potions 2nd year, Isobel thought she was a goner. Turns out, he was the one pulling the weight as she discovered she was dreadful with a ladle. Following that year, their friendship blossomed and she soon became an honorary Gryffindor. Trivial drama, laughter, love, and tears follow Fred, George, Lee, and Isobel through their years at Hogwarts, never knowing what future awaited them.++++Fast forward years following the Battle of Hogwarts and the wizarding world was taking its time putting its' piece back together. Isobel, a once bright student, has become a shell of her old self as she battles with a darkness she thought was behind her. Old friends come back into her life, but is she strong enough to finish what she started?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Lee Jordan/Original Female Character(s), Oliver Wood & Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	The Girl Who Lied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isobel does what she can to make sure she isn't found by the wrong sort... but what does that mean?

Above the boisterous pub known as the Leaky Cauldron sat grubby guest rooms that were as well maintained as a flobberworm’s backside. Now under new management, Hannah Abbott was determined to turn the establishment to one of respectful standings. It doesn’t help that most of the incoming visitors were usually on the run from something - family, the law, both - and therefore weren’t interested in leaving things how they found them. Thankfully, simple charms were able to block out the clunks and bangs from the rowdy crowd each coming night, so at the very least, you could grab some peace and quiet. The last room at the very end of the winding hallway looked particularly out of place this evening. For one, the area surrounding it was lined with a delicate ring of salt. The doorknob was unlike all of the others as well - and Abbott would have remembered changing a knob. Peculiarly, instead of a brass round handle, there was a purple iron pole turned horizontally.

Hannah Abbott brushed her golden locks over her shoulder as she made her way to the door. She had a small dish towel thrown over one of her shoulders and a dark smudge on her left cheek. Her thin twisted wand peaked out of the top pocket on her apron and as she got closer to the door, her hand began to reach for it before thinking better of it. She arrived at the door, stepped over the salt rim, let out a sigh and gave a few sharp raps to the door.

“Isobel, please open up. It’s Han.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the purple pole began to twist. When the pole reached a vertical position, there was a clank and the door creaked open. Sharp blue eyes peered out into the dank hallway with a careful demeanor. 

“Well fancy seeing you here, love.” Isobel laughed humorlessly. She squinted her eyes, even though the hallway itself was dim, and leaned her head up against the doorframe as she opened the door wider - just slightly, not enough to see inside the room. Her boney fingers clasped the doorframe and Hannah noticed that at least one finger - the pointer - had been broken at one time. A good break. A break that never healed quite right. She brought her gaze back to her old friend’s face.

“Don’t give me that, Is. We talked about this last week. We can’t be having you holed up here for weeks on end. You know we love you, but you haven’t paid last week's boarding fees and we’re going to be needing your room.”

“Listen, Han, listen-” Isobel began.

“No, you listen Isobel. I’ve heard this story before. You say you’re on a work trip, but I’m not convinced. You refuse to give me any sort of proof, claim you need to be untraceable, but I’ve not seen you even leave this room in the last three days. Now you’re tampering with my property with this new handle of sorts,” she gestures to the door, “no. This isn’t going to work. I know a few muggle pubs you can charm into having you if you’d like, but we’re just not working out.” Isobel was silent for a moment and then sighed.

“I heard what you’re saying, Hannah. Believe me, I hear you. I totally get it. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be out. You got it, not to worry.”

Isobel gave Hannah a smile that didn’t reach her face as Hannah’s eyes traced over hers. She was looking for a reason as to why that worked as easily as it did. Isobel gave nothing away as she stared back unwaveringly. Hannah had a difficult time even recognizing the witch she once shared classrooms with. The once spunky energy she had once embodied was little more than glowing embers. The Battle of Hogwarts had taken its toll on everyone, but she knew Isobel lost a lot on that day. She also knew that, for some reason, she held on tightly to some guilt. After a few moments, Hannah realized that she had been staring and let out an awkward cough.

“Yeah, well, good. Sounds like, uh, a plan. Tomorrow morning it is then. Nice. Well, cheers then. Have a good day. I’ll be at the bar if you need me at all. Remember, I need that knob back to normal!” 

She stepped backward and motioned to the door before briskly turning around after a curt nod. She rushed down the hallway with quick steps to avoid any further embarrassment. Isobel looked after her and mockingly waved at her descending back. Once out of view, she rolled her eyes and clicked the door shut behind her. She felt the weight of her body begin to be overwhelming and for a moment she pressed her back to the door with a loud sigh. She didn’t move for a few breaths - she couldn’t. Her thoughts began to race as her mind started to flit through information she had been studying rigorously for weeks. Hannah’s decisions to kick her out did not come as a surprise, but it sure was inconvenient. Isobel had hoped that she would have some semblance of a lead before leaving the safety of the Leaky Cauldron, but it seemed as though she would just have to improvise. Another knock on the door pulled her away from her inner monologue.

“Oh, bloody hell.” She groaned as she pulled the door open. Whatever she was going to say catches at the back of her throat. There was no one on the other side of the door. She looked down at the cobwebbed floor to see a single rose accompanied by a gray piece of cardstock on the far side of her salt barrier. Looking down the hallway, Is considered her options. Not wanting to take any chances, she grabbed a broomstick leaning against the wall beside her and pulled the flower and note over the salt line. She took a moment to confirm that the line is still intact before picking up the mysterious gifts.

She turned the cardstock over in her hand. Both sides were blank. Her fingers began to tingle, making her throw the paper down. Her hands fumbled for her wand tucked into her waistband while she kept her eye on the card. Before her eyes, the once blank card began to fill with text. She paused before leaning in to read the card. 

To the resident of The Leaky Cauldron Room 0401

Do not be alarmed by this letter. I am a friend. You are being followed and they are closer than you think. You are on the right track. Follow your intuition, it’s never been wrong before.

Signed,

An old friend

Isobel waited a moment before picking up the card. It must have been charmed to reveal the message at her touch. But who would be trying to protect her so secretively? Why wouldn’t they be able to show up at her doorstep if they were a friend? Questions filled her head and she furrowed her brows as tried to make sense of what everything meant. Who is reaching out to her? Who knows she is here? How do they know she is being followed? And HOW do they know that she is searching for answers? Her mind raced with even more unanswerable questions.

“It’s too bloody early for this,” she mutters as she grabbed a flask of firewhiskey from the bedside table, despite the fact that it was late afternoon. She took a gulp and scrunched her nose as it dripped down her throat. Once upon a time, she would have sold her left arm for a case of Fireball. These days, she would give anything not to need it. She looked around the room and at all of her scattered belongings. On top of the table sat stacks of notes with bright red jottings and crossed out sections. Some sections were circled and others had miscellaneous stains that have smudged the ink.

Isobel began packing with a quick flick of her wand. Her clothing began to fold and neatly stack itself inside a tattered suitcase that floated out from underneath the bed. Her engraved initials on the front were nearly intelligible and the state of the suitcase implied frequent use. Better days, she thought. In no time at all, Isobel’s personal belongings were consolidated onto the bed that she had made her workplace for the last few weeks. The place where she had spent more time working than sleeping - proof being the bags under her eyes.

Hannah wasn’t wrong about Isobel not leaving her room, but she also did not have a full grasp of the situation. Yes, she was also correct in the implication that she was lying about work, but Isobel had a very justifiable explanation. She was not working out of The Leaky Cauldron for her data filing ministry job. She was, however, working unofficially for an old professor of hers at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although it has been a few years since the battle of Hogwarts, there was still darkness lurking in the shadows. Voldemort may have given this darkness the confidence to show face, but his demise was not enough to suppress them completely. She also recognized that it was up to her to right some wrongs that had been haunting her for too long. She wasn’t looking for forgiveness, and she knew that she could never make things right again, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

Professor Mcgonagall had reached out to her very discreetly a few months back, and now it appeared as though her fears were proving to be correct. Isobel didn’t want to wait until the next morning to be out of the room - for all she knew, her alleged stalker had heard their conversation. It was probably best to leave as quickly and quietly as possible, she thought. She pulled all of the paperwork into a pile and to her chest before reaching for her flask for another gulp. She grabbed her thigh length trench coat and tucked the flask into the right pocket next to her wand. Taking her suitcase from the bed, she made one more sweep of the room before heading out. The rose and note were packed in her suitcase, but the words continued to haunt her mind.

She freed up her hand by tucking the paperwork under her armpit and grabbed for the handle. She stepped outside but stopped right before the salt line. Taking a single deep breath, she stepped over and paused, as if waiting for the alarm bells to go off in her head like they usually did when she was in danger. Silence. She pulled the door shut behind her and made a few more steps before turning around. She whipped out her want and muttered a few words to turn the doorknob back to its original form. With a small smile, she stepped back around once again and made for the staircase.

She skipped down the winding staircase and slipped around the corner. She scanned the loud pub from the doorway before determining it would be safe to pass. As she slipped out the back to head into Diagon Alley, she managed to catch the eye of Hannah Abbott from the bar. She offered her a smile and a wink before disappearing altogether.

Diagon Alley was not what it used to be. Stores had only just begun to have that spark that the wizarding war took away. Even the busiest days were laughable. Stores were barely able to make ends meet. It was later in the evening, so families were huddled together as they slipped in and out of stores for their shopping needs, whispering in hushed tones. Isobel kept her face downturned, but her eyes alert. Her brown hair fell over her shoulders and brushed the sides of her cheeks, hopefully creating a curtain to anyone who might recognize her. She tried not to feel so on-edge as she walked, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. She finally arrived at the large gaudy building decorated with oranges and purples. This was the building that she had been avoiding returning to for so long. It seemed like such cruel irony that she would end up here under these circumstances. The sounds of laughter followed behind a group of Hogwarts students leaving the store and filled with air with warmth and a soft smell of cinnamon. It reminded her of better days. She reached for her flask and took a gulp with a wince.

Pulling the flask away, she smiled. She smiled as she remembered what it was like to be that young and careless. She remembered those late nights, the butterbeer, the pranks, the awful exams, the disastrous relationships. Her heart ached as she thought about that time in her life and the moments that she will never get back. The people she would never get back.

“Oi, you just going to stand there, or were you gonna come in?”

Isobel’s daydream was ripped away from her as she stared at the ghost of her past directly in front of her. She quickly pushed the flask into her pocket and looked up again to observe him. His orange hair was swept to the side and he wore a striped matching suit. His eyes were softer than she remembered and his fake ear was barely noticeable if you didn’t know what you were looking for. But she knew that face. She knew every laugh line and curve of his face - except the face that she knew it on was no longer with them.

“George,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Now stop looking like you’ve seen a ghost,” George tried to laugh, but it came out more like a choking cough.

“It’s been a while,” Isobel said with hesitation, trying to soften the conversation.

“Ages.”

They surveyed each other for a moment before Isobel took a step forward and pulled George into a hug. He hesitated a moment before slipping his hands around her waist and hugging her back. His body melted into hers and she wished for the power to stop time, if only for a moment.

“Blimey, how’ve you been El?” He questioned with his face nestled in her hair. His voice sounded out of breath.

“Absolutely bloody awful to tell you the truth,” She laughed, tears welling in her eyes. He chuckled in response, their bodies still embraced.

“Aye, and of course that brings you here. Trust you to tell it like it is.”

They pull apart at the same time and hold each other at arm's length. She pulled an arm away to wipe the tears that threatened to fall. She met his gaze and saw that his eyes were becoming glossy.

“Come inside? I’ll put a kettle on.” He offers her his hand and she happily obliged. 

George pulls her through the joke store and explains how Ron was taking care of the floor for now. “Won’t even notice I’m gone,” he said with a wink. They traveled up a winding staircase before reaching a top landing with a single door. George tapped his want to the door and muttered a word that Isobel couldn’t make out. He looked at her and winked before pushing the door open. 

  
“It isn’t much, but it’s home.” He said as he began to rustle around in the kitchen, leaving her standing in the doorway. She looked around the room in awe. Although the flat was on the smaller side, it also felt as though it were holding the weight of her heart in her hand. She felt as though she were back in the Gryffindor common room - although she was sure that was the intention. 

“It’s lovely.” She whispered. She heard a clatter over in the kitchen and watched as George fumbled with a hinge that he couldn’t open. 

“I know there’s a second mug in here. It’s, uh, been a while since I’ve had guests.” He explained as she jimmied the handle a little while longer before remembering he was a wizard and fiddled with a few spells. Isobel watched him with a soft smile on her face as she walked closer to the kitchen. Her smile faltered when she saw the mug that he was holding. It was bright green with a large “F” on it. George saw her face, looked down, and turned around with the mug. 

“Oi, I’m so sorry. I think I have another one. Just give me a second. Blimey, yeah.” He was flustered as he tried to correct the situation. “Please, take a seat in front of the fire. I’ll be over in a moment.”

She nodded and pulled her coat closer to her body as she made for the couch. The nostalgic feeling had passed and she was left with the emptiness that chilled her to the bone.

**Author's Note:**

> This story goes back and forth in time jumps from Hogwarts to post Battle. I'll try to make it clear at the beginning of each chapter, but I am planning on alternating between each chapter. I'm hoping for this to be a slow burn - but I will admit it will be a lot of heartbreak before that. Please let me know what you think!


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